Wesker's last escape
by DG3
Summary: After the events of Resident Evil 4, Albert Wesker has taken over Umbrella, recreating it as his own company. Researching Las plagas in a secret laboratory below Washington DC, it was only a matter of time before something went horribly wrong...
1. Chapter 1

_Six months have passed since Agent Wong captured the plagas sample. During that time, my research team has made great strides. Infection with the original Tyrant virus appears to mutate the creatures into enlarged, resilient and vicious bio-weapons, which furthermore retain the ability to take hosts. These creatures would have been extremely useful, had the research been completed._

However... the curse of the Umbrella corporation seems to be unending. Perhaps it was foolish to recreate that company, considering its... rather unlucky past. Something terrible has happened.

I was supervising the testing of a new batch of the T-plagas prototypes in the Washington DC facility. The screams of the "volunteers" were truly horrific as they were rent limb from limb in the test chamber. The creatures were almost ready for military use. An interesting feature of these bio-weapons is that any victim not decapitated or dismembered becomes infected with the T-virus inside the plagas creature, rising as one of the "zombies" I have come to know so well over the years. This feature was to prove particularily unfortunate, considering what was to take place.

There was a leak of the T-virus. A recently transferred security guard apparantly opened fire, thinking he saw something move in a laboratory. He hit a canister of T-virus. All research staff had been immunised against the virus, however, the lower floors of the laboratory were flooded with the gas. Blast doors automatically sealed off the area.

After the confusion died down... it was discovered that the plagas creatures had escaped! We had under-estimated their strength, and their host-taking ability.

One of the parasites burrowed into a prototype Tyrant, the stasis fluids not affecting the worm, which soon took control of this new host. Using the strength of the creature, the parasite smashed its way into the air-ventilation system, destroying the special machinery which allowed air in, but prevented air escaping from the lab complex. Thus, the T-virus escaped into the atmosphere. As did the creatures...

Washington was soon over-run by the undead, transformed either by the gaseous virus, or by direct infection from the mutated plagas organisms. Also, at least one of the worms was known to be ready to multiply. That creature is out there now, in the city. It must be stopped at all costs, otherwise god knows how much of the country could be infected by those things...

The zombies in this great city are far too many for the lab personnel to handle. There is no escape for them. The phone lines are down, the mobile transmitter masts non-functional without power, lost when the citizens ceased to be human.

I alone of the research staff... I alone am more than a mere human. I have been chosen to hunt down and destroy the plagas queen. Then I must escape the city, bringing help to rescue my researchers. Not that I care for their worthless lives... But their abilities are invaluable to my work.

At any rate, I must get out of Washington. This time... it is MY last escape...

**Umbrella Head of Research, Dr Albert Wesker**


	2. Chapter 2

Dr Albert Wesker, formerly Captain of the Raccoon city STARS team, stepped out of the heavy steel blast-doors, into the desolated city. He was leaving behind the relatively safe haven of the laboratory. Ironic really, he thought to himself with a wry smile... Usually when there was an outbreak, the laboratory itself proved to be most dangerous. Not this time, due to his careful planning. Vaccinating the entire research staff against all known Umbrella viruses had been a masterstroke.

The blast doors opened into a dark underground room. Actually, it was the bottom floor of an underground carpark, situated directly below the offices of New Umbrella's front company. The carpark was deserted. Well, almost deserted. Within the booth guarding the entranceway, a lone zombie raged fruitlessly against the door keeping him trapped within. The effects of the T virus had already removed most of the man's intelligence. He couldn't even work out to PULL the door towards him to open it.

He was an Umbrella employee, even if he was far too lowly to have been considered for T-virus vaccination. Wesker raised his silenced pistol, and fired a single shot, putting the man out of his misery. Instantly he regretted it. Although he was carrying a large amount of ammunition for the weapons taken from the facility armoury, there was potentially a whole city of the undead to deal with, not to mention... worse things. He had better save his ammunition wherever possible.

Wesker headed up the ramps, and out of the carpark, into the open air. The groans of the undead filled the air as he entered the once-bustling city...

He found himself on a major street of the city, deserted apart from a dozen or zombies feasting on the bodies of their victims. From somewhere in the distance, a human screamed their last, a horrible bloodcurdling wail of agony and despair, the unfortunate citizen doubtless being eaten alive by a zombie or other foul creature.  
Wesker shivered involuntarily, holstering his pistol, and instead taking hold of the silenced MP-10 submachine-gun strapped to the back of his black kevlar armour.  
He vowed that he would NOT share the same fate.

This was perhaps a foolish promise to make, since Wesker did not know what creatures now lurked within the devastated city. The labs were extensive, and he had not taken charge personally until quite recently. The scientists had not yet managed to check all the holding cages. Several so far had been found burst open. Usually the experimental creatures were kept within special stasis fluid which stopped brain activity. Somehow the plaga parasites had gotten inside the chambers, and were apparantly unaffected by the fluid. Taking control of the bioweapons within, they used these host bodies to escape the labs and vanished into the city.

At the very least, there must be several Hunters and Cerberi roaming the streets, with the added danger of the parasites within, their inherent tendency to work in a team particularily worrying...

An electrical crackle interupted Wesker's thoughts, and a voice spoke into his ear via the tactical earpiece/microphone set mounted there.  
"Dr Wesker? The tracker unit is working perfectly. We have you on the map. The birthing plaga would probably head to the centre of the city. That's where the highest population density is, so therefore the greatest supply of host bodies is there also. I suggest you head that way as quickly as possible, to minimise the number of "ganados" you will be facing. Zombies are definitely preferable to those...  
Head north on this main road. It should take you there the fastest way possible."

"Affirmative" replied Wesker, walking over to where a car was parked nearby, a partially eaten human lying on the floor just outside of the driver's door, an arm still reaching through the door, gripping the steering wheel. Evidently the guy hadn't quite made it into his vehicle before the undead seized him. Wesker looked inside, luckily finding the keys still inside the ignition. Lifting the dead man, he almost effortlessly threw the body to one side, and wiped off his black gloves on the car upholstery, an expression of distaste flickering across his face.

Wesker got in, and started the engine, the sound attracting the attention of the zombies in the near vicinity. He hit the accelerator, his unnatural speed and skill helping him get to 60 miles per hour within a few seconds, by means of four extremely rapid gear changes. Two zombies immediately in the path of the car bounced off the bonnet, and were sent flying over the car, landing dying in the road. Wesker headed north, as per his instructions. A couple of minutes later, he was making good progress, when he caught sight of a flicker of flame out of the corner of his eye.

A petrol station was about a hundred metres to the car's front and to the right. Wesker was heading right past it. The flicker of flame was moving rapidly across the ground towards one of the pumps. One of the pump heads had caught fire somehow. Although Wesker did not know, nor did he care, a cigarette butt had been smouldering on the floor and touched the trickle of petrol from the nozzle. Wesker slammed on the brakes, and wrenched on the steering wheel, sending the car into a skid. He performed a U-turn at a ridiculously fast speed, yet somehow kept control. But he was still all too close to the gas pump when it exploded...

A massive fireball erupted into the sky, flipping the car violently through the air, sending it crashing into nearby shop-front. The explosion also destroyed several blocks of flats nearby, causing their rubble to topple into the road, utterly blocking it...

After the deafening explosion, silence reigned, apart from the crackling of flames. But after a minute or so, another sound was noticable. The hungry moaning of the undead, closing in fron all around, heading for the wrecked car where Wesker was trapped. The scent of his flesh attracted them...

Something moved within the wreck. Wesker had survived. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked around him. The car was upside down, the front end buried inside a shop. And the door was jammed. With a mighty punch, Wesker ripped the door from its hinges, and clambered from the vehicle. Then he heard it, the sound of the approaching undead. He looked towards the hole the car had made in the wall of the building. Hundreds of zombies could be seen approaching from the distance. This was a residential district, with many high-rise apartment blocks. A lot of people, in other words. Now, they were a lot of bloodthirsty monsters out to devour Wesker alive if they could. No way did he have enough ammunition to take on all of these.

Wesker took a quick look around, searching for an alternative exit. And found one. There was a back door, and he headed for it. It was locked, but he broke it down with a kick. Just as he was heading through, something caught his eye. A display cabinet had been knocked over by the car when it burst through the wall, its contents scattering over the floor. This place seemed to be a hardware store, and the item which caught Wesker's eye was a large petrol-powered chainsaw. He grabbed it, along with a can of fuel, and headed through the door, into the back alley behind the building. He would need to find an alternative route to the city centre, and with all the zombies so nearby, it would not be easy...


	3. Chapter 3

Wesker found himself in a dark alleyway at the rear of the shop, dozens of zombies clambering through the wreckage of the shop behind him, following him slowly but steadily. Wesker looked to the ends of the alley. There were two ways out, and he set off towards the end to the north. He might as well start off in the direction in which he was hoping to continue...

About half a dozen zombies lurked at the end of the alley, and Wesker raised his MP-10, opening fire, cutting them down. There was a sudden loud CLICK. The gun had jammed! A dog growled behind Wesker. He turned... No, NOT a dog! A cerberus! It sprang at his throat, and as Wesker grabbed his pistol and pulled the trigger, it too jammed!  
The vicious monster went for his jugular vein. As the rotting canine leapt for his throat, Wesker dropped to one knee, and swung his left fist upwards, shattering the Cerberus' jaw with a powerful uppercut. The decaying creature crashed backwards to the floor, and struggled to get to its feet once more. Wesker kicked it viciously in the chest, producing the sound of several ribs breaking. Picking the monster up by its hind legs, Wesker then swung it violently into the alley wall, splattering its blood everywhere and shattering its skull.

He looked around. The horde of zombies was still some way off, moving slowly towards him. He took advantage of this lull to fill the chainsaw fuel tank with petrol from the can taken from the shop. His jammed guns would take time to clear, more time than he had right now.

Wesker holstered the useless pistol, took hold of the chainsaw carrying handle, and sprinted down the alley to the end. He turned left, and headed down the road. This route would take him to where he had been heading before the car crash.

Dozens of abandoned cars straddled the street, many crashed into each other, effectively blocking progress through it in several places. Passing through was like making your way through a maze. And amongst the wreckage roamed many of the walking dead...

Wesker needed to pass through here, and his guns were useless. One or two zombies, he could easily handle unarmed, but this many... Well, it was a good thing he had the chainsaw.

Wesker yanked on the starter cord, and the saw roared into life, settling down into a steady chugging sound. Albert raised the unweildy weapon, holding it out ahead of him, and started running through the maze of destroyed vehicles. A zombie lurched out of a space between two crashed lorries, and Wesker jammed his finger tightly down on the trigger. The chainsaw roared deafeningly, and then made a hideous screeching sound as it ground away at the ribs of the zombie. Wesker had impaled the undead creature on the sawblade, ripping its rotting heart to shreds.

He yanked the weapon out of his enemy, and continued on his way. An arm, more bone than flesh, reached from a car window, aiming to grab hold of Wesker. The saw howled as it sliced the arm from its owner. For good measure, Wesker jammed the weapon through the car door, killing the zombie outright. He pulled out the saw, kicking the door to help dislodge the now blood-spattered blade. Wesker himself was also covered in gore, his once-black combat suit now equally black and crimson.

Wesker carried on his way again, slicing two more zombies in half as he ran. Suddenly, something glinted in the sunlight. A split second later, Wesker realised what it was... The axe that was spinning towards his head, thrown by a plaga-infested human!


	4. Chapter 4

Wesker's eyes widened as the projectile flew towards his head. It was already too close for him to duck in time, even with his speed. Wesker whipped his arm up in a blur. There was a loud _CRACK_, and the axe stopped in mid-air, remaining where it was although its forward movement had stopped. Wesker lowered his hand, and the object within it. The axe was stuck fast into Wesker's automatic pistol...

Wesker grabbed the axe handle, pulling it free from his weapon with a sharp tug. He dropped the now bent and broken pistol, and took a firm grip on the axe in one hand, the chainsaw in the other. He rushed towards the parasite-infested human, and with the buzzing saw, sliced its right arm off, as the axe slammed into the monster's forehead, killing both it and the parasite within instantly.

The blood-soaked scientist ripped the axe-head from his enemy's skull, taking one last look to check that the parasite was dead. He then hooked the axe to his belt. It was a fire axe, and had a hook for such carrying purposes. Wesker took a look around, sniffing the air, using his enhanced senses to test for the presence of any living being nearby. It seemed that for the moment at least, his zombified pursuers had lost his scent. They were nowhere nearby.

Wesker thought for a moment. His mission was urgent, and time was of the essence, but he needed weapons to carry it out. Now was a good time to repair his submachine gun. His pistol was useless for now, but chances were that he could find a replacement. 9mm pistols were easy to come by in this country.

He walked along the street for a few minutes, keeping a careful eye out for any sign of an ambush. No such attack was evident as yet. At last, he saw what he was hoping for. A gun shop. Such establishments were all too common in Washington D.C, but in a situation like this, that fact rather suited his purpose.

Heading into the shop, Wesker dropped his MP-10 on the workbench at the back, and quickly located a set of weapon maintenance tools. Before he got to work on the jammed machinegun, Wesker surveyed the contents of the gun racks and shelves around the room.

Hunting rifles and shotguns hung on the walls, and handguns of various types were lined up under the counter.  
Wesker selected carefully. A 10-gauge pump-action shotgun, a large-bore hunting rifle with a scope, and a replacement 9mm handgun, this one with a bright red lazer-sight under the barrel. He also took a second pistol, for no particular reason other than he liked the look of it. It was a .45 Winchester magnum semi-automatic, nicknamed the "Grizzly". Collecting a sizable supply of ammunition for these weapons, Wesker stored them, with the exception of the 9mm, in a rucksack he found in the corner. Loading the pistol, he placed it ready for use on the workbench, in case he should be rudely interrupted. Taking hold of the tools, Wesker cracked open the breech of the jammed machinegun, and set to work...

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, a dark figure ran from shadow to shadow, a blade glinting in its hand. This was not one of the infected. This man's name was Nicholai Ginovaef, and he was most definitely human, physically at least. Morally, he was the equivalent of gutter slime, or perhaps of a particularily vicious predator. Nicholai hefted the combat knife in his hand as a zombie shambled out of a darkened doorway. It was risky, keeping to the shadows like this. The zombies seemed to dislike the sunlight, and so it was easy to bump into one. However, the shadows were also useful for hiding from the OTHER kind of infected... the human bodies inhabited by the plaga parasites. Nicholai had discovered this soon after the outbreak had occured. He had been in the city when the virus and the parasites had escaped.

As for what he was doing there... Ginovaef had been sent to infiltrate Umbrella's secret base of operations under the city. He had spent a week or so stalking known Umbrella employees and torturing them for information about the base's whereabouts. He now knew where it was, and was on his way there when all hell broke loose. His taxi-driver had been complaining of itchy skin, and all of a sudden, he let go of the steering wheel and tried to bite Nicholai! He recieved the business end of a combat knife that buried itself in his forehead, putting him out of what would have been the misery of life as a zombie.

Nicholai no longer worked for Umbrella. At least... not for the new Umbrella corporation founded by Albert Wesker. He was a mercenary, and had been for a long time. He cared only for money. Not for love, nor loyalty, only hard cash. He outdid Wesker in this aspect. At least that man was a scientist, despite how violent his tendancies were, and how cold his demeanor. Wesker actually did care about his work, the advancement of science, the thrill of new discoveries.

Nicholai made him seem positively warm and caring in comparison. The mercenary cared not for such things, and was only doing this job for the monetary rewards promised to him by his employer... a man called Spencer... He had given no christian name, but he could not be the same man who built the mansion outside Racoon city. He must be a relative.

Nicholai's thoughts snapped back to the present as the zombie tried to take hold of his shoulders, preparatory to taking a bite. The merc flipped the blade in his hand, into the backhanded stance favoured by knife-fighters. His arm swung to the right, neatly slicing the zombie's jugular vein as Nicholai evaded the spray of blood by ducking under the undead creature's arms and standing up behind it. A vicious backwards kick sent the rotting freak sprawling to the ground, where it rapidly perished.

Nicholai WAS carrying a gun, but since he had needed to conceal the weapon, he had not been able to carry much ammunition, so the likes of a zombie was not deserving of a bullet. He wiped his knife clean on his leather jacket, and returned it to his belt sheath. The laboratory was still a fair way off, and his mission had a deadlines. Besides, the army would eventually turn up, and there would be questions asked if he was caught within the lab complex with a weapon.

Little did Nicholai know who or what stood in his way...


End file.
